[BL] I Focus on My Career In Dog Blood Plots

Chapter 232

It was still the same road back home. Only there was an extra Han Yu in the car.

"The last time I was here, there was mostly freshly cleared land on both sides of here, but now it's full of crops and lush. Look, that heart-shaped umbrella-like leaf is for taro. And that row, that's corn, and that one is a watermelon field, right?"

They opened the window, the soothing breeze blew away the dry heat of the poisonous moon, and the colorful braided rope bracelet on An Yinong's wrist fell with a five deadly silver charm, swaying and lining her wrist extraordinarily well.

Han Yu also had the same colorful braided rope on his wrist.

He wore this rather juvenile bracelet to class under the astonished gazes of his classmates, so the few lessons he taught soon learned that the cold-faced, serious professor had a close same-sex lover.

In fact, Han Yu liked this small object that could prove the closeness of the relationship more than An Yinong.

"Meow?" Sting is interested in the five poisons charm on his hand rope, so An Yinong explains the tradition of expelling five toxins at the Dragon Boat Festival.

Han Yu watched as he rubbed the cat's head with the cat's pads, the soft sound as musical as it was.

The cicadas on the roadside chirped one after another without seeming raucous, and the ducks in the water hid by the bridge abutments to comb their feathers. There are still a lot of small fish hidden there, enough for these ducks to feast on.

The children are unafraid of the heat, wearing hats made of lotus leaves and carrying fishing nets across the fields to catch dragonflies and turtles.

The refreshing summer winds blowing through the leaves, the chirping of robins, the sound of dragonflies fluttering and vibrating their wings, the sound of water flowing, the quacking of ducks, the sound of swallows skimming over the ground. ......

If you close your eyes, it's as if the world rewinds to childhood.

The orphanage where An Yinong was staying also had a garden bed planted with vegetables, where he would catch minor bugs as a child. The marvelous sounds of nature had always been a treasure trove of music and a source of inspiration for him.

His mouth gently hummed a song, from the wings of a golden tortoise to the dandelions that bloomed all over the field. The music sounded like it was sung to Han Yu, ringing in his ears like wind chimes.

"Is it good?" He leaned against him, a smile on his face, "Newly written."

"Good to hear."

An Yinong still writes songs, just like he picks up a paintbrush occasionally, except his work is usually only for one person to see.

He would still yearn for someone else's approval in the past, but not anymore.

One confidant in the world was enough to comfort him for the rest of his life.

The driver pulled into the village, and the old man in a little white undershirt walking chess under the big banyan tree glanced at them and returned to continue playing. The dog was lying in the shade of the tree, its tongue out and breathless.

The gates were open in the yards of these homes, and children, cats, and dogs ran through the yards, and now and then, the middle-aged voices of the mothers in charge rang out.

"It's hot."

"It isn't?"

Two women swinging bushels of fans and wearing floral dresses walked by, their plastic slippers slapping against the concrete pavement with a clattering sound.